"...Andre? Andre, come on, please wake up..."
The Giant's eyes fluttered open slowly, revealing his fellow members in the Mega Powers Rock 'n Wrestling Connection gathered around him, looking concerned. "Where am I?" he slowly started to rise.
"Take it easy there, Andre," Bret Hart put a hand on his shoulders, "Doctor's orders are that you stay in bed and rest up for a while."
"What doctor?" Andre's eyes shifted around the hospital room he seemed to be in, "How did I...?"
"They took you there after you had that heart attack in the ring, brother," a worried Hulk Hogan informed him, "I never could have guessed you'd be that scared of snakes, Andre..."
"Heart attack?"
"Brought on by complete shock when that snake Roberts dumped his Damien on you," Davey Boy Smith reminded him, "You've been out for close to four hours now; we were starting to get worried..."
"I feel fine," the Giant insisted, starting to stand up, "I'm going to find Roberts and...!"
"Andre, no, you can't," a deeply concerned Miss Elizabeth gently pushed him back down into the bed, "The doctor said you need at least a week in bed without any scares until he's sure your heart's back to normal; none of us want to see anything else happen to you."
"And don't you worry about Roberts; I'll skin him good for this, big guy, and make sure he knows full well he can't do this to one of us and get away with it, yeah!" Randy Savage declared, pounding his fist firmly.
"Randy, it's not going to solve anything to go after Jake for this," his wife tried to dissuade him, "Jack Tunney will make sure he's fined and maybe suspended for it; just let justice work out on its own."
"Well, if you say so, Elizabeth," the Macho Man conceded with a somewhat disappointed expression. "Like my partner in the Mega Powers just said, Andre, I'm a little surprised you'd let Damien get you like that..."
"It was nothing, really, nothing," Andre insisted firmly, "Just...just brought back some memories..."
"What kind of memories, Andre? You've had a bad encounter with a snake before?" Bret inquired.
"Uh, no, but..."
"Andre..."
The Giant sighed and took a deep breath. "I was eight," he recollected, his face scrunching up in pain, "It was summer in the Alps. I was out playing with some friends in the hills. We'd been rolling in the grass, and one of the boys had lost some of his spare change. I went around looking for it, turned over this large rock, and..."
He shuddered deeply. "You were bitten by a snake that was underneath it?" Hulk raised his eyebrows.
"I must have startled it," Andre grimaced at the memory, "I screamed loud enough to wake the entire village below-and luckily a few of my friends' parents came running up to see what was going on. They were able to get me to the hospital in time to get me detoxified before the venom caused any lasting damage, but ever since then, I...I can't go anywhere near a snake without the memories coming..."
He couldn't finish. "I'm sorry, Andre," Bret told him sympathetically, "But you do know that not all snakes are bad, right?"
"I could have died, Hitman..."
"My father always said, Andre..."
"Another Stu Hart saying, Hitman?"
"Yes, and it's that fears have to be faced at some point, or they'll eat us up alive. I learned that when the neighborhood bullies ran rampant on our family during Stampede's down years for being poor. When I finally stood up to the worst of them, he never bothered me or my brothers again. Maybe you can do the same with snakes, so that Jake can never do this to you again."
"And if he does, we'll make good and sure he won't, yeah," Savage cracked his knuckles firmly, "Just try not to worry about this, Andre, this ain't gonna happen again..."
"So, the great and mighty Andre the Giant is deathly afraid of snakes," the silhouetted form of Don Kennedesco Vincenelli watched the footage of Roberts's Damien assault on Andre on the TV in his darkened office. "You may just have opened a can of worms that can be used to our advantage here, Mr. Roberts," he told the Snake without turning around.
"I'm just as surprised as you, D.V.; I had..." Heenan started to say from his own armchair.
"Don Vincenelli, if you don't mind, Mr. Heenan," the don corrected him firmly.
"Sorry, Don Vincenelli; I was saying, I didn't expect Andre to completely fold like that, did you guys?" Heenan glanced at his fellow Million Dollar Corporation managers in their own armchairs; they all shook their heads in unison. "So, anyway," the Brain continued, "We should take pride; we drove the Giant clean out of wrestling, and that's one less Mega Power flunkie to worry about..."
"Not true, Heenan," the don's nephew Stefano spoke up from the corner, "Our guys got the hospital reports; Andre'll be out in about a week if his heart holds up, and knowing him, he'll try to come back for his fans."
"And I say, let's be there waiting for him," Freddie Blassie declared firmly, a dark smile crossing his lips in the darkness, "Now that we finally know what that big galoot's weakness is, I say we exploit it for all it's worth, and make sure that from now on, wherever he turns, he's going to see snakes and lots of them until he does quit wrestling for good. What do you say, Don Vincenelli?"
"I like it, Freddie, I like it," the don took a puff from his cigarette. "Mr. Roberts," he turned partially towards the Snake in his own armchair, "I'm putting you in charge of scaring the Giant out of the wrestling business. He's one of the biggest pillars of Jack Tunney's family friendly product; get rid of Andre, and we're a step closer to reshaping the WWF my way. So, if you have any ideas on how to go from here..."
"Oh, Damien and I have LOTS of ideas on how to go from here," Roberts snickered, holding up his python's head and nodding at his pet, "In fact, I think Damien would like to invite some of his friends to participate in this charade as well."
"His deadly little friends too?" Paul Bearer raised a knowing eyebrow.
"Yep, Paul, his deadly friends too, including Macho Man's worst enemy," the Snake laughed hard.
"Good. Then go ahead and get rid of the Giant for good if you can," Don Vincenelli instructed him.
"Trust me, Mr. Vincenelli," Roberts laughed again, colder, "Trust me..."
